Music/title: What’s Up, People?!; Maximum the Hormone
“Is your life boring? (Ikiru imi tsumaran ka?)
Are you trembling with rage?
. . ….
So you need me, do you?
You think your ‘suicide’ will make me love you again?
You’re a weak, pathetic excuse for a human, and I don’t need this shit.
Think I care about your worthless, menial life?
….You’re fucking insane.
/ / /
Henken-inken ningen funda ugokidase ore FIGHT…
Music/title: Title and registration; Death Cab for Cutie
She knew. She didn’t know how, but when her mother’s door opened for the first time in days she just knew. She heard her mother’s footsteps move into the basement, and it was then that she heard the gasoline dripping off what once was her mother and onto the floor.
..It was then she knew she had to escape.
60 words of non-fiction; May 2011
Photo taken April, almost exactly a year later.
I don’t know how to forget,
And I don’t know how to remember..
Music/title: Quantum Of Solace; Miracles of Modern Science
I should be dead.
Or at least the living equivalent of it.
Ever seen your mother douse herself in gasoline?
[ Ever wished she’d actually lit the match? ]
.. . .. . . ..
Imagine for a brief moment your childhood.
Imagine your fifteen year old self wishing for your own death.
[ Kill yourself? No. You wouldn’t go quite that far with it. ]
Imagine waking up alone.
Imagine not knowing if you’d see your mother today, or if she’d stay locked in that room.
[ You’re crying, pounding your tiny fists on her door.. It’s been weeks since you last felt the sun dig into your skin.
So desperate.. You’re swearing and screaming you won’t go anywhere else. ]
Sixteen years old, and she nearly lights the whole house on fire attempting her suicide.
[ But she’s your mother. You love her. How could you leave her? It’s not her fault she’s sick… Right? ]
Seventeen years old, and you left. But still she calls. And hours are filled with talk of your betrayal.
[ You’re a terrible daughter. How could abandon your own mother like that. Everyone else, sure …But you? ]
Twenty-two years old, and she nearly beats your grandmother to death with a paperweight.
[ But she won’t press charges. Because it’s her daughter. It’s not her fault she’s sick… Right? ]
Twenty-five years old, and she’s finally institutionalized. Locked away forever;
You wonder how it ever got this far..
[ Twenty-five years in- You’re happily engaged, miles and miles away from her insanity.
And you’re wondering how it ever got this far… ]
.. . . .. . .
Sometimes it’s worth holding your breath for just a little bit longer..
Because that single moment when the pain finally does stop…
That- That’s what’s really worth living for.